


more than sight

by keeper0fthestars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Din is so soft I am losing my mind, Din takes off the helmet when it’s dark, Dirty Talk, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, bad fucking grammar, but like soft filth?, din djarin has feelings, din says fuck a lot, i am so soft for this man, i have no Beta, if that's a thing?, like a lot, pure filth, spitting, welp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24337576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeper0fthestars/pseuds/keeper0fthestars
Summary: Din is on his knees for you and you are a feast for his senses.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Mando x reader - Relationship, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 25
Kudos: 253





	more than sight

The visor awards him the sight of her and he’s not often willing to deprive himself of seeing her, nor will he will ever take it for granted. He even prefers it to a blindfold because when his fingers press into soft flesh, teasing, when she melts under his touch, he wants to see the hungry bloom of her pupils, eyelashes weighed down, brows pinched together. 

She welcomes it, she wants the same thing because when the ship is docked and the ground security is in place or when hyperspace offers an endless expanse of night, they both feel like they can finally breathe again. When he pulls her down on his lap, when she’s loosening the gleaming beskar piece by piece, the fire in her eyes burns straight through his dark lens making him remember all the times she’s been beneath him in their bunk, or pinned against the wall of his weapons vault, or splayed on his lap in this chair, skin slicked, exposed, keening and rigid. 

When his visor is in place, there is no need for a knotted cloth around her head, and he is not one to deny her the pleasure of seeing the effect she has on him either. To look down and see how her hands fit around him, to watch him drip down her knuckles, to see the twitch of smooth muscle when she drags her tongue over the deep grooves on his lower abdomen, guiding the swollen head of his cock to the place where he stretches her open, her own mouth falling open, consumed by watching him disappear, slick and hard, filling her, buried, until all she feels is him. 

She never takes her eyes off him, the circles he traces, gently gathering slick on his bare fingers, bringing it to her mouth, watching his visor lull to the side when she sucks them off, quickly learning what he likes. The satisfying curve of her mouth when a strangled groan escapes beneath the helmet and his chest plate rises and shudders under the weight of his heavy breaths. He watches her eyes flare when he asks her what she wants. 

Yes, he likes her eyes uncovered, the way they react, when his voice grates through the modulator, ‘You wanna fuck me like this, sweet girl.' 

When he presses her open for him, and she’s completely absorbed by his voice. 'Just like this… with that perfect little pussy.' 

What she can’t see is the way he looks at her like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. 

////

Today is a different day with different rules; the darkness in the hull allowing him to quench a different need. Nothing will ever compare to being able to breathe in her scent without the filters so he tries to fill his lungs for days to come. The sound of her sweet whimpers without his auditory amplifiers is better than all his wildest dreams combined. 

Knees buckling, her forehead falls forward against the cold steel, her hand fisted in his damp hair, the other hand grips the wall of the hull so hard she’s sure they leave divots in the steel. She would be a crumpled heap on the floor if not for a single hand like an iron bracket on her hips, holding her to his mouth. 

Her sweet sobs filling the pitch-black space, legs a shuddering mess. Two fingers are curled, slow and precise, and he won’t relent, his hungry moan forcing her over the edge again, sharper, lasting impossibly longer than the last one. And right now, he’s taking his time because she is throbbing and hot and her grip on his hair is making his scalp tingle, licking heat up his spine and she’s pleading in that voice that’s only meant for him, a sound that will make him blush for weeks to come. Her hips circling shamelessly against his mouth and fingers, she whines, broken and raw, and he feels his grin widen. 

His name spills from her lips like an admonishment and a prayer all at once, a hot, pulsing sound filling the space between them. It shatters her to pieces that this imposing, magnificent, tower of beskar is on his knees for her, that this hardened, menacing man is soft for her.

Finally, he releases her with an obscene noise, holding her as she sags against him, boneless. He’s letting her come down from the high, licking two fingers and a thumb clean, and he knows she is counting the seconds before he starts again. And for one breathless moment, he wants her to be able to see what his mouth looks like, swollen and coated with her. He wants her to see that most of all it’s her taste that makes him delirious, and right now, he is far from satisfied. 

Yielding the weight of her, skating his tongue up over her lower abdomen, stopping to suck a bruise into her hipbone, she flinches into his touch as he moves up her body, his mouth leaving a trail of wet. 

“I’ve got you, my girl,” his voice is heavy and thick. “C’mere.”

Gentle hands keeping her upright, she hums, spent, anchoring herself against his solid frame. His teeth sinking into her collarbone, leaving a mark he’ll see later when the lights are back on, proof of where his mouth has been, he finds her pulse under his tongue, feels the frantic rhythm of it. And then her mouth is splitting open for him and the last coherent thoughts evaporate from his head as he chokes her name, his breath hot in her mouth, strung out because he is painfully hard and leaking into the tight grip of her hands. 

The bunk is only a step away so he guides her backwards until the mattress is against her back, lifting her on the edge of it, nudging her knees apart. He finds her jaw, thumb and fingers holding her mouth open against his. He works his cheeks together, her release still sweet in his mouth, gathering it all on his tongue, letting it drip into her mouth. His tongue slowly dabbing her lips, tasting the roof of her mouth, lingering. 

“Swallow it,” he breathes against her lips, knowing his voice alone will make her clench around nothing, whimpering into his mouth. 

Tracing circles around her nipples. He doesn’t need lights to know how her hair is falling over her forehead, how the sweat beads along her brow. He thinks about how her legs will squeeze around his head right now if he bends to suck on her again, and he can’t resist. 

“Open your legs for me.”  
He latches on her to her swollen clit once more and she trembles against his mouth, whining so sharp it’s almost soundless, ringing off the enclosed space of the bunk. She needs more than his mouth and he knows it. 

"Din, plea-se…,” tugging his hair, he recognizes what she’s doing and what she wants, knowing she won’t last much longer, “- I need to cum with… you in me.”

“Oh you will, my girl,” he grins, lifting himself to muffle another whimper against her mouth. “I promise.”

“Please-, fuck me.”

He feels her legs hook around his hips, one palm under his cock, her fingers urging the round softness around the bottom, her other hand yanking up his soft woven shirt. He twists it off his head, dropping it on the floor, letting her mouth roam over the planes of his chest, breath hitching when she tugs at his nipple, sending a straight line of fire to his cock again. 

“Say it again.”

“I want you to fuck me,“ Letting her guide him, her impatience is exquisite and it makes his stomach spiral with need. She needs this as much as he needs to give it to her because the last planet had afforded them no luxuries; in fact, the last three jobs had been the latest in a long line of terrible. 

His fist stays around the base of his cock as he twists into her, standing between her legs, taking his time, slowly inching into her, telling her how good she feels, ’So fucking wet for me, fuck.’ Feeling her stretch for him, dragging out even slower, then deeper and deeper until his thumb is hitting her clit, nudging it with each thrust. Breath ragged with each word, he keeps praising, listening to her needy little sounds becoming more filthy for him, her back arching, pulling him deeper. "Fuck you feel good…," too undone to even think, he coats his hand with her slick, working it down his cock, as he stretches her, "my perfect… little…" 

Finally bottoming out, his slippery hand falls away, his body flush against her, feeling every slick inch of her. His thumb stays pressed between their bodies making her clench around him and he is desperately close to losing it, panting, "Sweet… fucking girl,” a hard edge to his voice. His free hand digs into the softness of her hip and he could stay like this, buried in her for hours. She knows because he’s done it. But this is not one of those languid nights, filled with hours of softly tumbling limbs, slow and lazy and sluggish, this is an ache he needs to quell now. 

“I need you to cum for me,” he growls, impatient and breathless, rolling a nipple beneath his palm replacing it with his tongue. 

“Then keep fucking me.”

He hears the grin in her voice and he finds her mouth, first with his tongue, then with his fingers. 

She’s eager, knowing he is a trembling needy mess, spurred on by the wet pull of her mouth and the slick sound of his cock. Chasing her edge, she is already there, right on the brink and, Maker, he just needs to fucking move. He is so close he is shaking, the sweaty grip on her hips tightening. He pulls out and slams back in and, stars, all the fucking spice in the galaxy does not compare to the devastating high of being inside her as she cums, the white-hot burn of his own muscles as they stutter and tense and dissolve into nothing. He rides out her orgasm with hard thrusts, his throat stinging as he chokes, spilling into her, pleading her name against her neck, an unintelligible mixture of two languages and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop spilling into her. His eyes start to water and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for but he can’t stop that either. She’s all but dissolved, gasping, sobbing, still fluttering around him and he can’t bring himself to move, so he rests his head alongside hers, her sweat mixing with his tears, carefully balancing his weight above her. 

Her frantic breathing is the only thing keeping him grounded.

When they can both hear and feel again, when their pulses die down, he swivels her legs to one side and nudges her back into the narrow space. He lays down with her, nestling their bodies together, tucking himself around her, burying his mouth against her soft neck. 

In their sleepy hazy state, she studies the familiar lines of his face with careful fingertips, the slant of his nose and the soft pillows of his lips, the curve of his cheekbones, the delicious little dimple in his right cheek, the sharp edge of his jaw, the softness of his ears. 

And his hair. 

His hair, thick and soft and tickling her skin.

This is as close to bliss, as she thinks she will ever get because his breath is warm on her neck, the soft baritone of his unfiltered sleepy voice full of murmurs and giggles and quiet promises in the dark, trying so hard not to fall asleep. She’s never been taken care of like this, strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe. 

He finds her soft hands, curling his fingers around them, bringing them to his lips. Selfless hands that hold his secrets and his exhaustion and his adoration; hands that trust him, never flinched when he’d come back to the ship full of blood and dirt. Confident, capable, hands that give and give and give, making his and the kid’s life just a little easier. 

Sometime later, in her sleep, she says his name. A soft murmur, falling from her dreams warm under the blankets. “I’m here,” he whispers folding her snug against his chest, “I’m right here, sleep, Cyar'ika." 

He’s in no hurry for her to wake up, but when she does, he has something to show her and the kid. Something he’s been planning for months. Well, two things, actually. When the Crest lands at its programmed coordinates, he’ll lower the hatch and take them over the ridge, over the lush green soil. If his cycle calculations are correct, if the light of the suns is at the right angle in the sky, the first thing she’ll see is the sunlight shining through the windows of the cottage as if they are hanging in the sky just for them, waiting for the three of them to arrive before sinking into the endless horizon of blue. A safe place. Their safe place. He’s doing something he’d never allowed himself to dream of until she’d walked into his life. He’s taking his family home.

The second thing, well. 

The second thing she’ll be able to see is the way he looks at her like she is the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> this is something I needed to get out of my system and full disclosure, I cannot believe I never saw this until I was all done with it, but my ending, as it turns out, appears to be inspired by the events of [Vaar’tur](https://hiscyarika.tumblr.com/post/190417516940/vaartur-morning/) by [hiscyarika](https://hiscyarika.tumblr.com/). I didn’t start out today to write about that, but this is where I ended up without even realizing it.
> 
> please tell me what you think of this story!
> 
> This is my first Mando fic…actually, this is my first Star Wars fic as well! I know I’m super late to the party, all things considered, but he is a demanding muse, I’ll give him that.
> 
> I struggled with making this sweet and soft instead of pure filth and I think I ended up somewhere in the middle and I don’t really know how that happened. Soft!Din showed up and refused to be ignored.


End file.
